


He Wasn't Registered at the Automobile Club

by RakishAngle (afterdinnerminx)



Series: Behind the Scenes One Shots (Prompts by Tumblr Re-Watch Discussion) [1]
Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 13:00:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4747370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterdinnerminx/pseuds/RakishAngle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season One, Episode Two</p><p>Jack needed to see Phryne in that gorgeous violet and silver dress with a drop waist and high likelihood for thigh exposure.  Phryne needed to see Jack in the shower.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Wasn't Registered at the Automobile Club

Lady Detective Phryne Fisher doesn't wait for men. On this occasion, she had made a special trip to provide her invaluable services to the Victorian Constabulary and, specifically, to Detective Inspector Jack Robinson. Not that he was particularly appreciative. Nor was he in his office to welcome her. 

Still, she had information to share about Lindsay Taylor, a charming and - at the time - hardly dressed young man that had suspiciously inherited the lot of his aunt's estate. Her instincts told her that he was a snake. A young, virile and rather willing snake who reminded her that she had an itch to scratch. 

She had made up her mind on the spot that she would not be lustfully compromised by him as part of this investigation. This sacrifice, like her other contributions to investigations thus far, would doubtless be appreciated far less than it should. 

A glance around his office informed her that his hat is here. His coat is here. He must be here. 

She walked to the interview room. Not there.

She walked through the halls in the front of the building. Nothing was obvious. She returned to the front desk. "Constable Collins, where is the Detective Inspector?"

"Uh, I'm not sure miss. I believe he is in the building so he must be back soon." Hugh Collins knew that the inspector had some ongoing discussions with Miss Fisher regarding the recent murder investigation on two fronts: she was housing (and was hired by) the daughter of a murder victim, Eunice Henderson and she was acting as state care for a suspect, Jane. While the constable was aware that he probably shouldn't just let Miss Fisher roam around the police station, it would be much worse if he were to announce that his boss was doing exercises in the gymnasium. "I'm sure if you just wait here, he'll only be a moment."

Phryne returned to the DI's office but didn't sit down. She hazarded a chance to inspect the overcoat she had worn after being liberated from a locked steam room. Hm. That's interesting. 

Right, she has no patience for this. She has things to do with her day and she'd like to get on with it.

She looked out through the doorway to the front desk before shutting that access door. Once out of view, she exited through the second doorway of the inspectors office. This was the doorway that gave access to the rest of the station. Constable Foster was coming down the hall looking refreshed and - dare she say it - freshly showered, before he turned left into another office. She tip-toed down the hallway past that office and took a left, which is where she thought Foster had been coming from. She passed the filing room, a set of lavatories and ended up at a game room with a billiards table set up. At the opposite end of the room was another door to the officer's gymnasium. 

Phryne looked at the clock. Really, she didn't have time for this today. She entered the police gymnasium in hopes that the Detective Inspector would be there. It would only take a minute. She saw a boxing ring, racks of dumbbells and weights, a punching bad, hanging jump ropes, a set of rings hanging from the ceiling, a pommel horse and a set of pull up bars. He didn't appear to be here. She was just ready to leave the room when she heard running water behind the door. 

Maybe he is in the shower? She walked into the men's locker room as if she belonged there. Well, why wouldn't she after all?

It had been only a short while since she'd been in a room like this. The room was completely open with two tiled walls lined with shower nozzles. Closer to her was a set of benches and on the adjoining wall to the shower room door a wall of lockers. 

Right in front of her at the center of the far wall was her target: Detective Inspector Jack Robinson. The DI she had met thus far would be classified as buttoned-up, stiff, stern and rigid. The man in front of her now was supple, lithe and invitingly naked. Shame he had no idea she was here. He was facing the spray of water and his lovely backside facing her.

She had considered interrupting him, sharing her news and getting on with her day. But, as she held to her convictions not to be lustfully compromised, she could do with a little reward. No time like this present. This was it.

She sat prettily on the bench in the violet and silver dress she had worn to the rowing club. The ladder to her lilac stocking visible as she crossed her legs. She set one hand behind her and let her eyes take him all in. After all, he'd seen hers. 

She became aware that she was slowly fanning herself with the lilac feather that she had been carrying around. She couldn't for the life of her understand why she was carrying it around but it looked divine. She decided to run the top of the feather over her neck and down her arms, mirroring where the man in front of her was scrubbing himself. 

He washed his hair and turned off the spigot in front of him. His hand wiped away the water on his face. Then he pushed the hair off of his forehead abstractly and started the trek to get his towel. Which was conveniently just next to her on the bench.

"OH, JESUS!" He recoiled against the wall when he saw her and did his best to cover himself up with a combination of his limbs and posture.

"Detective Inspector, so nice to see you. I have some news."

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?" His eyes were darting around the room, trying to determine how quickly he could recover his modesty.

What a conundrum. He needed a towel, she liked him better without one. Phryne rolled her eyes. Fine, she thought - I'll compromise. She stood up and picked up the towel to bring to him. However, because beautiful men in showers are the kind of life's treasures to be savored, she brought it to him slowly.

She let her eyes sweep over him from his toes to his mop of hair, inhaled boldly and extended her arm that held the towel he coveted so badly.

The towel was snatched from her hand. The inspector awkwardly tried to enrobe (or is the better word entowel?) with out removing the limb blocking Phryne's view of his privates. The angrier he got, the more amused she became.

"Lindsay Thomson said he went to the automobile club. I have my doubts. You'll want to have someone check the registry before your interview with him this afternoon. You're welcome."

She turned toward the door and took several steps forward before she had another thought. She pivoted back to him. Poor man, he was pinching the bridge of his nose. Again.

"Oh, and inspector..." His eyes look up. He is a deer in the headlamps. "My offer still stands on getting your coat cleaned. Or, if you prefer, we could soil it even further."

She fanned her fingers at him and left the room.


End file.
